


Toritale

by Dark_Crystal_Demon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: All Talk of Sex and Kink Are Only For Characters Over the Age of 18, Breastfeeding Kink, Breeding, Exploring My Massive List of Personal Headcannons for Ruins Culture and Society, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Healing Sex, Human/Monster Hybrids, In depth look at all the life in the Ruins, Magical Pregnancy, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mommy Kink, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, Switching, Toritale AU, True Love, comfort/comfort, healing from loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Crystal_Demon/pseuds/Dark_Crystal_Demon
Summary: What if... what if you stayed?What if Toriel is everything you ever wanted? What if she would be enough?What if you made the Ruins your HOME?This AU is warm and fuzzy. It's going to be full of great cooking, corny jokes, sex, heat cycles, breeding, pregnancy, and wonderfully curious hybrid children running all over the Ruins. With time, the sound of children playing catches the ear of those on the other side of the door...Can love save the underground? Maybe, just maybe, it can.





	1. Fallen For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NihilismPastry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NihilismPastry/gifts).



> Dedicated to Nihilism Pastry who wants to see me write a love fic that doesn't go to dark places.   
> So if you want dark, devilish fics with questionable morals; then go check out my other work on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Crystal_Demon). 
> 
> If you want light, with a ridiculous amount of happiness, a little drama, and gratuitous amounts of enthusiastic, consensual sex... WELCOME HOME!
> 
> Reader does have a back story (it's kinda dark), because I love a good healing story. She also has athletic tendencies, but only because I LOVE contrasting beautiful body types. Toriel is the most gorgeously, curvaceous woman in all of the underground. This fic is meant to celebrate all women - and the varieties that we come in - and womanhood itself with all the love, strength, and wisdom that comes with it. I hope you enjoy.

 

 

> _Sanaa, my love, I still miss you... and this journal is almost full._
> 
> _Do you hear my thoughts? Or does Death censor my letters like a jealous lover? Do you hear me calling for you while I stand at Her threshold? I've brought myself to Her dark doors a countless amount of times these last few years. Have you heard me knocking?_
> 
> _I've tried to be creative:_
> 
> _I've walked on the edge of an active volcano while singing your favorite songs._
> 
> _I've gone sky diving from an old country plane that had more patches on the wing than your favorite pair of jeans._
> 
> _I started taking more freelance jobs in war torn countries. Just like old times. I knew you would have been angry at my choice, but I was angry too. My photos are now being used at a peace summit. You know, after you left... I had to fight against violence._
> 
> _I've walked the world trying to find you again. But Death won't let me in, and your equal is no where on the surface of this earth. So now I'm going inside it. No, not in a coffin, love. I promised you I would never take my own life... but I've gone to that haunted mountain. Ebbot. You remember that late night, watching documentaries on tv? They brought up the old epic scroll about the war with monsters..._
> 
> _I'm sitting beside one of those old runes on the mountainside. Let's see if I disappear. I wouldn't mind. I have nothing to go back to. The house is sold. You and our friends are gone. You're never coming back. I know you're never coming back._
> 
> _Sanaa, if I disappear, I still want the world to remember you. Remember who we were. I'm leaving this journal here. If I survive this mountain, I'll come back for you. If I don't, then there is poetic justice in this world. Because I've reached the last page of this journal._
> 
> _-Forever Yours._

You place the journal inside the wooden donation box beside the rune stones of this tourist trap. The truth is, you are never coming back for that journal. Sanaa is dead. You've mourned enough. 

This is the last thing on her bucket list. You saved it for last, because it is the most appealing thing for you. Nature. Hiking. Peace. 

Before you met Sanaa, you'd lived most of your life out of a backpack. It seemed appropriate to go back to that lifestyle. Sure, lately you'd been quite dangerous about it, but after this, you were going to let yourself be forgiven for surviving that night...

Camping, hitch-hiking, this is your new life. You have a new journal, a new sketchbook and your camera. Now you are going to start looking at life through a new lens. Ha! 

Your first adventure for your new life: explore the haunted Mt. Ebbot. Your next adventure? Who knows? You aren't planning ahead any more. You're staying forever in the present. It's the only place Sanaa isn't there. She consumes your past, and it's still too painful to imagine a future where she doesn't wake up right next to you. 

The present. Yes. Right now. And right now, you have your caving gear, and a missing group you had gathered from the internet. One had a family emergency, another got sick, and the last didn't show.

Rule #1 when caving: do NOT do it alone. But you're tired of letting others who are absent in your life set the tone of your plans. Your new plan: find the entrance to a cave and bring back pictures of the insides; then, others will stop fearing this mountain and join you.

"Goodbye, Sanaa," you kiss your hand and place it on the donation box. "Wish me luck." 

The trek is slow-moving when you leave the well-maintained hiking trails at the base of the mountain. You make it to a clearing by dusk. It's going to be a warm night, and you've reached a high enough altitude that bugs aren't going to be an issue. You decide not to put up your tent, and instead sleep under the stars. Without the lights of the city, the constellations shine bright in their eternal plays. You give a nod to Perseus, Andromeda and Pegasus above you. No matter where you were in the world, you could always count on the stars to come out and greet you. They are the only witnesses to your entire life. You close your eyes under their protection and dream.

The next day, you wake up to the sun beginning to rise. A mist from the Western sea passes below you at the base of the mountain. You take a deep breath and smile. It is a beautiful morning. You stretch, warm up with a few exercises, and snack on a protein bar as you pack up your bag. You're feeling lucky today.

And you are. You find a vertical cave drop within the first hour of your search. The hole is very steep, but you can see yellow on the cave floor below. Flowers? Fungi? Who knew. You set up your gear, anchor your rope, and take a deep breath. You know this is stupid. You know you should wait to go with other people. But you've done this hundreds of times, you tell yourself. It's just for a quick camera shot to get others to overcome their superstition. 

"Here goes nothing," you say, your heart jumping in your chest as you trust your weight to the rope and feel it pull tight on the anchor. It holds. You're good. Death is still not opening her door. 

You start to rappel down the cave wall. At one level of rock just a few feet below the surface, the stones gleam with light. Geodes? You're not sure. You place your hand on the sparkling rough edges, but it just feels like ordinary rock. It's almost as if they're illuminated by a beam of light, but it's not the one coming from your helmet. You decide to try and get a sample of it when you come back up.

You leave the strange layer behind, and soon find that the hole opens up to a giant cavern. Runic pillars stand in crumbling remembrance of a time long ago. You gasp at the view. This is incredible. How had no one come down here? Pictures of this place are going to go viral. 

"What are you doing?" A voice asks, startling you so much that you loose your grip and slide down the rope. Your scream is cut off by the jolt from your gear catching on the knot at the end of your rope. Your head swings a few feet from the ground.

 _Knock Knock._ Still no answer.

"Oh my, are you, okay?" You try to nod, but the action is dizzying as the blood rushes to your head. You close your eyes to gather yourself. You take a few deep breaths as the rope continues to swing you around. You open your eyes but the cave is still very dark. It's taking a long time for your eyes to adjust. The light from your helmet is cutting through the darkness, but you still can't see who's talking. They sound pleasant. It is a woman's voice with a rich, deep tone like cream in dark chocolate. She spoke again, "Do you need help?"

You laugh at the whole situation. Everything was so intense yesterday - even moments before as you were rappelling. Now you're swinging upside above some ridiculously, sweet-smelling, yellow flowers with an older woman who's _just here_ already in the darkness? Who is this person? You decide levity is the best you can do when you're dangling upside down on a rope, "Nah, I'm just going to hang around."

A giggle echoes along the cavern walls. It is kind of cute. It makes you smile. How long had it been since you smiled because of another person? You thought you had this woman pegged as late forties, but that giggle made her sound closer to your age. "Hey, why don't you come out into the light?"

"Well, I am afraid that I might frighten you," her tone changes so quickly. She is genuinely concerned. Now your curiosity is really peaked. You turn off your helmet so as not to force her to appear. Your eyes adjust more to the light filtering in from the entrance above. As you spin around, you can see a darker shadow ahead. You can tell by the outline that she is very tall. Gauging by your distance from the ground, you would guess she is... six feet - at least?  

"I don't scare easily, ma'am," you decide politeness is the best way to go. And it's a true statement. You've seen war... disease... the blood draining out of Sanaa's face as she told you goodbye...

Stay in the present.

"I've seen a lot of things. A woman with a sweet voice like yours isn't gonna scare me."

"I'm a monster," her voice is quite. You wonder what would cause her to say that. Boils, scars, amputations? How many times had you massaged Sanaa's stump and reminded her she was beautiful? 

"Oh? I've met monsters, but it's not their looks that make them that. It's their souls. You sound like, you have a good soul."

"How can you tell?" Your face must be completely red by now with all the blood rushing to it. It's starting to give you a headache. You take a deep breath and pull yourself up. You're thankful now that you never gave up those ab crunches that Sanaa always insisted you do. For your safety, she would say, you never know when your body will be the only tool at your disposal. That was the army talking through her...

Present. Stay. In. The. Present.

But you know why you can't get her out of your head. Upright now, you decide to just tell the truth to this perfect stranger. "When I'm around good souls, I think of my wife. She burned so bright that the sun was jealous. I'm remembering her a lot right now; so you must be the moon."

"You're quite the flatterer," she says. You chuckle to yourself. Find a random stranger in a cave, and you are already flirting. Sanaa would say it was your natural state. 

"I don't have a filter for positive things that come into my head. I feel like the world is a better place when you allow compliments to be said."

"What about now? Can you find a compliment?" She asks, stepping into the light before you. 

"Oh wow," you definitely weren't expecting... well, she isn't human. She blushes like a human, but it's through the soft white fur on her face. Her face... long lashes, plush lips, fangs, horns. Is this for real? You can't stop smiling. This is so incredible. She's wearing a homespun purple dress with white runes that differ from the ones you've seen above ground. She has a basket in her... paws. She has paws. Your grin keeps getting bigger. She smiles back. You can see her fangs are matched by another set of sharp teeth inside her maw, but you don't get the urge to flee. Is this just bad instincts? No. It is the fact that Sanaa's presence hasn't once left the room. Your gut tells you that you aren't in any danger, and you believe it. It's never steered you wrong before, and this... her... this place. You introduce yourself with a sweeping arm that makes you lose your balance and struggle with the rope to stay up. She laughs. Who knew monsters had beautifully honest smiles and great senses of humor? "And you are?"

"I am Toriel. Toriel Dreemurr." She did a little curtsy when she said it. It made you think of being in a medieval court. 

The sickening sound of a rope snapping echoes in your ears as you find yourself on the ground; your ankle twisted beneath you. The aroma of the yellow flowers intensifies from being crushed beneath you. Their petals are soft, but not soft enough to break your fall. 

"Oh dear, are you okay?" Toriel races to your side. She hesitates as she kneels next to you. You push your ankle out in front of your body and offer it to her for inspection. Trust. You don't know why, but you know you trusted her. She takes your ankle gingerly in her paws. Their pads are soft but calloused. You cry out as she examines the golf ball sized lump that has already started to form around the outside of your ankle. 

"By the stars that hurts!" 

"I am sorry."

"Nah, it's not your fault, obviously." You look up at the severed rope above you. You can barely make out that faint glowing line you had seen in the rock before, but that is where it had frayed. How? You had checked the line twice. 

"My home is not far. I have supplies there to help you."

"We've only just met and you're already inviting me back to your place?" You joke, and enjoy the mischievous smile that greets you on Toriel's face. 

"Well, you did fall for me first," she winks, and your friendship clicks into place. That's just how the world works sometimes. You meet a person, and you both just understand each other. In Gaelic, they use the term _anam cara._ Soul friend. It was the belief that some souls have been shattered into smaller parts and placed into other beings. So when you meet another part of yourself, you just know. 

Maybe that's why you can't get Sanaa out of your head. Your soul is trying to tell you that you've found more kin. A monster. A friend. Who knew? The world works in mysterious ways. But you know as you take her hand and she helps you stand, that you have indeed found an _anam cara_. It has been a long time since that has happened. You lean on her for support as you hop beside her. 

"Would you like me to carry you?" Toriel asks as she bends over to pick up her discarded basket. It is full of mushrooms and snails of a breed you don't recognize. 

"Oh no, I'm kind of heav-"

"Here, take this," she offers you the basket, and you take it reflexively. Then she reaches her arms under your legs and back, picking you up with ease. It is... really impressive. You can feel the strength of her muscles underneath the cushion of her plump arms. 

"You always sweep your guests off their feet?"

"Only ones that drop by unexpectedly."

"Well I'm staggered by the hospitality. Wait, did you just pull a lever to disengage a trap?"

"Welcome to the ruins. We love to puzzle our guests so that they keep coming back for more."

She chuckles at her own joke and walks you through a pattern of steps to avoid traps laid out on the floor. 

"Will there be a quiz later? I was never very good at written assessments."

"No, you strike me as a hands-on learner," she smirks and raises an eyebrow seductively. You're at a loss for words at just how charming that look is. You feel your body heat up a little in her arms. You become more aware of just how large her breasts are against your body. You can't help but wonder if she's snow white everywhere... She laughs with a faint blush appearing. You're sure your facial expression is similar. "I am sorry. There is something about you that brings out these naughty innuendos. I am usually not so crass."

"Oh no?" You had to admit, hearing that made you smile more. "Well, I enjoy it. There is nothing better than a sexy, tour guide to make a girl forget about how badly she just spelunked on her ass."

"You are... like no human I have ever met before."

"So more of us are down here? Cool. Well, you are my first monster acquaintance, Toriel Dreemurr," You look up at her crimson irises and pause at just have marvelously beautiful they are. Her looks are traditionally terrifying and yet alluringly fascinating. "And I think it's safe to say, my life is never going to be the same again."

She blushes deeper. Her cheeks are adorable puffs above her fanged smile. She's at a loss for words now herself. But you don't regret your forwardness. You are being honest. You have no idea where this journey is going to take you, but, for the first time in years, you have forgotten the past and the future existed. The present has stolen your full attention. 


	2. A Home Among Ruins

You've almost forgotten that your ankle is the size of a softball as Toriel continues her impromptu tour of the cave system she calls "the Ruins." You let her words distract you as she oscillates between puns, information, and ensuring that you're still doing okay. 

Soon you have to admit that it is hurting more. You're not a whiner, but you're also a horrible liar when asked a direct question. Sanaa always said that your face was too easy to read. "You would be horrible in interrogations. Remind me to shoot you if we ever get captured." She was only half joking the first time she said that. You were an embedded photographer for the military back then. It took you a while to go from liability to friend, but when you finally reached that status, you'd get to hear another version from her lips, "You're the most honest person I know, Lens."

"There is strength in admitting when you are hurt and need help," Toriel says, when she notices you biting your lip to hold back another whimper. You've had a lot worse injuries. This hurt, but it is nothing you can't handle.

Even still, she insists that you keep your foot elevated. Before you can ask how, she shifts you in her arms and maneuvers your legs up onto her shoulder. You hook your good leg around her back for support. Your upper body rests in her arms. One arm supports your upper back; the other grips beneath your hips. Her fingers try to get a grip on the straps of your pack around your waist, but it doesn't work. The angle isn't right. Then she slips her fingers into your belt loops, trying to get a better hold. It pulls the fabric of your pants tighter around you...

... not that that should mean anything. But it does?

You lay there in her arms and feel your face heating up like you were fifteen again. This wonderfully kind woman is trying to help you and you're caught up in your own weakness for strong women. Your first girlfriend had been a wrestler. The first time she picked you up and pushed you up against the lockers... well, you've been hooked ever since. But this is not the time to be thinking about that.

Now you're trying to keep up witty banter as Toriel takes you through a few more traps in this maze-like cave system. But when you have to cross an underground river on a tiny bridge, and her grip tightens around you, it takes everything you have to take your mind out of the gutter you so rightfully belong in.

You try to distract yourself by checking on your foot. Now without boot or sock, it is free to feel the cool cave temperature. But when you try to wiggle it, pain shoots up your leg. It's getting harder to move. It makes you worry, but then it brushes up against the soft fur of Toriel's massive, floppy ear. So soft... You revel in the feeling and then realize what you're doing. You apologize and try to keep it off of her, but you've run out of shoulder. You nearly topple out of her arms trying to not crowd her with your body.

She looses her grip around your hips and her hand cups your ass. She takes hold. A very strong squeeze... and then a few more...

... or was that you're imagination?

No. She's blushing. At least, you think she's blushing underneath that soft white fur? She clears her throat, but her hand doesn't leave it's new position, "Almost lost you there."

"Yeah, better keep that hold tight," you wink in a way that you hope is playful. Her hand twitches. "Or I'm taking the fungus with me!" You finish with a dramatic shake of the basket full of snails and shrooms that you're still holding for her. She laughs, and it echoes along the cave walls.

The tension eases. Her hand stays comfortably firm, but you'd be lying if you said your heart isn't racing a little. In her arms, you feel very... precious. You don't know how else to describe it.

You lean your still helmeted head into Toriel's arm and let the softness of her fur caress your cheek. She's so... fluffy. Closing your eyes, you enjoy the warmth of her body against the chill air of the cave. She's quiet. You wonder what she's thinking. You're not sure what to say next. You think of Sanaa. She always had an uncanny way of breaking silence. At times like these she would always do the unexpected and bring out her goofy side. It's what made her a good leader, a loved leader. She could always balance herself to stay calm in a situation.

 _Love, what story would you tell right now?_ Keeping your eyes closed, you fiddle with a loose reed of Toriel's wicker basket in your hands. You think about the basket's contents, and the story reveals itself. You look up at Toriel and ask, "Do you want to hear a joke?"

Toriel chuckles, her body dancing around you with the action. You like it. "Of course."

You close your eyes again, seeing the story unfold as you tell it. "A little girl goes out to play in her yard when she comes across a snail outside of it's shell.

'What are you doing?' asked the little girl.

'I decided to do some spring cleaning!' said the snail.

'Oh, that sounds nice,' the little girl replied and then left the snail to his cleaning.

For a week, every time the little girl goes out to play, she sees the snail and his shell, but he doesn't seem to have moved at all! Finally, on the seventh day she asks him, 'Are you okay? I know snails move at their own pace, but it doesn't even look like you've started.'

'You're right,' the snail agreed. 'Ever since I took off my shell, I've felt a bit sluggish.'"

Bad jokes, Sanaa's speciality, and it works like a charm. Toriel snorts. You open your eyes and smile wide to see her laugh. You imagine she'd slap her knee if she wasn't holding you in her arms. Instead, she doubles over around you.

"Ex-shell-ent," she giggles. You shake your head in playful disapproval between your own chuckles.

A comfortable silence passes between you as you enter another room full of columns and patches of dead leaves that have fallen from vines, growing along the ceiling. She walks you behind a column in the room and asks you to pull the lever there. A door opens up on the far side.

"This place really is a-maze-ing," you comment, eliciting another giggle. But it's true. You realize you've already forgotten half the traps she's walked your through. "How do you remember it all?"

"I don't always. But I leave myself clues," she nods her head towards plaques you've noticed are by every entrance.

"Doesn't that take away the purpose of the trap?"

"Well, most people don't read directions even when they're right in front of them," Toriel shrugs. "A person who reads and has a clever mind should be rewarded."

"You sound like a teacher."

"I am," she smiles, and you both return full circle to her explaining how the traps work. Only now, you feel a little closer, more intimate.

She navigates through another room, but as you let your mind wander over her explanations, you realize the walls themselves puzzle you. You're sure that, by now, your are in what should be the dark zone of the cave. You are far from the entrance you fell from, and yet every room is illuminated with a purple glow, coming from the walls.

Violet, amethyst, orchid, plum. Where is the light coming from? You've been to bioluminescent caves before, but none like this. Each tunnel and room is tamed with bricks, dimly lit in different shades of purple light that shift seamlessly in waves within the grains of their rough, stony surface. You've never seen anything like it. When Toriel passes under an archway, you reach out to touch the brick. You expect the light to be coming from a fungus or micro-organism, but nothing rubs off into your palm. Instead, you nearly cut open your hand against the sharp edges of stone.

You hiss in pain at your folly, but try to hide your hand behind the basket in embarrassment.

"Did you just-?" Toriel doesn't even know how to finish her question. She stops walking and looks down at you. "I am beginning to think that you _like_ hurting yourself."

There's that playful smile with a raised eyebrow... You try not to blush at how true that statement actually is. You almost say something in confirmation and then feel a phantom squeeze against your thigh. Even though you know she's not there, you look at your leg anyway and think of your wife trying to warn you about revealing extremely personal and inappropriate subjects in public. Sanaa had come up with this system of giving you a squeeze every time she knew you were about to say something you shouldn't. She'd done it so often that even now, after she'd been gone for years, your body is still conditioned with her warnings.

You look away from your leg and peek at the tiny scratches on your hand. It didn't draw blood, at least. "Sorry, I just - these walls... what makes them glow?"

Toriel continues her pause for a moment longer. You wonder if you'd been able to hide your response to her comment well enough. Was your secret written all over your face? You really should learn how to hide your emotions better.

You keep your eyes on the bricks instead of looking at her face. Your gaze rises up the wall and admires how the bricks arch into vaulted ceilings. You are a sucker for good architecture. It is a great angle and would make a wonderful photograph, but your camera is still in your pack. Finally Toriel speaks and thankfully it's in regards to your question, "No one has ever asked me about the bricks before."

"So you don't know?" You finally look up at her face with a mischievous smile as the topic changes. She had told you earlier that she knows everything about these caves.

"Oh I know," Toriel smirks at the challenge, and gives your body a small squeeze as she readies herself for another explanation. Does she even realize how cute she is? Or how electrifying the placement of her hands is? Surely she must know. But she doesn't acknowledge your renewed blush as she continues, "I found a journal left by a mason who helped build these walls long ago. She said that when they were making the bricks, they infused the rock of the cave with magical elements that would absorb and reflect light. The bricks by the hole where you fell reflect the light back into the tunnels. This is the brightest the caverns will get since it's midday outside. These rooms will darken as the sun sets.

"Sometimes the moon will share her blue light. But we all have ways to make our own light if we need it," Toriel pauses a moment. She looks like she's going to stop talking, but decides against it. "I would not advise you to go out in the tunnels at night."

"Is that when the scary monsters come out?" you ask, half-jokingly, but Toriel nods her head.

"Most monsters are good, gentle creatures," Toriel answers. "But some have been twisted by the echoes of the past. They cling to bitterness and hateful memories. As a human, you would not be safe."

"As a human," you repeat.

"The war," Toriel nods, and you realize that the old scrolls of the battle between monsters and humans is what she must be referring to. The myth is real.

Of course it's real! You're laying in the arms of a monster! You would like to ponder over what that means for reality if myths can be real, but your mind instead wanders to the warning Toriel just gave you, that you may not be safe.

You understand the hate that gets passed down through generations. It causes people to become violent in their ignorance of change... An old memory of your own wells up in your heart. Sanaa...

You hear the echo of gun shots and the screams inside your head...

"I apologize. I did not mean to upset you," Toriel looks down at you with worry etched into her furry face. You try to push back the tears that sting the sides of your eyes.

"Just old memories," you choke out, coming back to the present, but you don't say any more. You can't. You won't. You don't want to remember.

Sensing your sudden unease, Toriel hugs you. She brings you to a set of hanging vines and then pushes them aside to reveal a hidden pathway. She decides to tell you more about the cave, and you are grateful for the distraction. "The sunlight filtered through the bricks is enough to keep the plants growing...well, most of them."

As she walks you through the vines, she steps over a small channel of water that is nearly impossible to see along the walls. She explains that they are small irrigation canals that help water the plants. She starts to explain the drip machination within the walls and then stops herself. You can feel her body tense as she apologizes, "I am sorry. This is not interesting. I get carried away..."

"I love it," you cut in, peering at the walls as if you can see the complex system of canals and gears behind it. "How do you fix it if something breaks or gets clogged?"

Her body relaxes with your question. It makes you wonder how many times she's been cut off by other people ignoring her. That's a shame. You can listen to her cheery commentary all day. The way her eyes light up as she shares these facts she's read... She's a beautiful person -

Monster.

Did it matter?

She starts to explain the repairs, "Well, first the ghosts search for the problem through the walls, and then I can usually get some migosps to help. They act like they don't care about anyone, but they really love plants..."

"Ghosts?" The word ghost triggers a strong image of Sanaa, but before you can delve into what she means by ghosts or migosps your breath is taken out of you by the view. "Oh wow..."

You hear Toriel smile with a happy hum as she stops in the center of a room that is a great balcony. The bricks slope into a low wall framing the view of a city built within a colossal cavern. You can't see the ceiling, and you resist the urge to turn on your headlight to see how far the beam of light will go.

Below the towering darkness, the city sits in a surreal purple haze of magic and Roman architecture. Stone archways and columns decorate buildings calling back to over a millenium ago. "How... how long have you been down here?"

"I don't know the exact time. There are very few monsters left who remember a time above the surface. When I was born, this place was already abandoned by most monsters. My family used to come up here to visit the Ruins and pay our respects to the first city. We call it 'Home.' I always felt that it was an appropriate name. This place... is so peaceful. And most of the monsters here are so kind."

"So you're not from here originally?"

"No, I was born deeper in the mountain. I was raised... with a lot of responsibility. When I got married, I had a house built up here so that we could get away every now and then," she got quite for a moment. "He never liked it up here. When we separated, I could think of no better place to start my new life."

 _No better place to start my new life._ Her words, so soft and full of memory, resonate deep inside your heart. You both stay still, silent, pondering your own pasts as you look at the ethereal city before you. You rest in the rise and fall of her chest. You can feel her heart beat. Your own falls in sync. _We call it 'Home'._

Is it really that simple? Was the world going to spell it out for you this obviously? Then again, the world had always had to spell it out for you. Didn't it, Sanaa? You could almost hear her voice. _Welcome to my platoon, Lens. I'm Lieutenant Singh. We're a family here. We look out for each other. Let me be clear. No photo is worth a man's life. If you understand that, we'll get along just fine._

_Welcome to our family._

Sanaa. Will it ever get easier to think about you? Aren't you tired of trying to take care of me?

Maybe you are. That's why you threw me down a hole... a hole with a home surrounded by ruins.

Yeah, that seems right.

"Toriel," you whisper, almost unable to find your voice as tears fall down your cheeks. "I'd like to stay here for a while. If that's alright with you?"

You know Toriel must feel the wetness from your cheek on her dress, but she doesn't say anything. She just hugs you and nods, "You can stay for as long as you want. Anyone who falls in the Ruins has a home here."

"Oh? Is that mandated by law?" you try to joke, wiping the tears from your face.

"Yes, it was mandated by the Queen," she chuckles, but, for once, you don't catch the joke. "We... we should get your ankle fixed up. My house is right around the corner."

"Does that mean you have a view of this from your house as well?"

"I... one room does," Toriel answers. You can tell there's more she's not saying. She begins to walk towards the exit on the other side of the room. "And... it is about time that I tidy that room up for a guest."

"I don't want to cause you any trouble. You've already done so much." Truly. She didn't even know how long it had been since you'd laughed so much with another person. "I can sleep on a couch or a floor, no problem."

"No trouble," Toriel hugs you again. "You just gave me a reason to stop procrastinating."

You enter a small courtyard with a dying tree in the center of it. Red, dry leaves surround its base. "What's wrong with it?"

"The sunlight from the bricks seems to be enough for the vines and other small plants, but not for trees," Toriel answers.

You contemplate the plight of the gnarled branches of the tree, but soon you can't help your own curiosity of looking at the front of Toriel's house. It's simple brick. Two windows on either side of the door, like a child's drawing of a home. Above the door is an engraved plaque. It's similar in style to the ones Toriel made to guide herself through the traps, but this is written in runes and lined in tarnished silver. A few of the runes have been scratched out.

"What does that say?"

"It is just a long winded way of saying 'Welcome to Toriel's Home,'" she replies rather shortly. You think about asking what's scratched out, but then remember that she had this built when she was married. You look again at the scratches. They're quite deep and look like they were made by a set of claws... Hm.

You walk in the door and a set of stairs leading downwards greets you. You wonder how many levels this house has. She turns to the left and takes you to the living room. After setting you down on a chair in front of the fireplace, she takes back her basket, puts it on the dining room table, and then proceeds to stretch her back and rub her arms where your body left imprints on her fur.

You thought about making a comment on the imprint her palm has left on your ass... but you feel that phantom squeeze again.

"I really can't thank you enough," you stretch and release the snaps of your backpack. Your body rejoices in the relief of the weight of the straps off your shoulders and waist. But then blood begins to rush to your ankle, and you stifle a yelp as pain shoots up your leg. You prop your foot on the ottoman in front of the chair. It relieves the pressure, and you wiggle your toes just for more reassurance that your ankle is not broken. Your toes barely move.

You place your bag down beside you. Your discarded boot that you tied to the bag by its laces, clunks onto the wooden floor. Wooden floor... painted brick walls. The paint is a warm, honey yellow that cancels out the shimmering purple magic. "Sometimes you just want to control your lighting no matter the time of day," Toriel answers when you ask her about the paint. You notice she has a few lamps, but instead of turning any of them on, she raises her hand before her and fire appears in her palm. It flickers against her glowing red eyes. She winks at you and then tosses the fireball into the fireplace beside you. It crackles to life, and she smiles in its glow. You get the feeling that she is showing off for you.

It worked. You are impressed.

"You can do magic." The way your voice rises, it almost sounds like you asked a question.

"Fire magic," she beams with pride. "Most monsters have some element or type of specialty when it comes to magic. I have an affinity for fire and... I am sorry. Here I am about to ramble... Let me go get you something for your ankle."

You have already forgotten about your ankle as you stare at the fire now roaring before you. Fire magic. When would the surprises stop?

But before you can ask her more, she has already walked behind you to a room you assume is a kitchen. You close your eyes as she leaves and listen to the sound of her opening and closing cabinets. There's a clank of glasses and the sound of a sink. It sounds so... normal. A crackling fire, sounds from the kitchen, sitting in a chair after a long day... and yet your head swims with new information from everything you've encountered. You would have to write all of this down later tonight.

You hear her coming back and reopen your eyes. She offers you a glass of water and a small wrapped candy.

"What's this?" You ask after a long sip. You love tap water and being able to taste the minerals inside it. It had a distinctly, irony taste. The green candy wrapper crinkles in your hand. You pull the ends, twisting it open. A green ball of sugary delight drops into your palm. "Candy?"

"Monster Candy," Toriel nods. "They are made by the loox in the city. I have caches of these in bowls all over the caves. You know, just in case someone gets hurt? But the one by the hole you fell from got raided. I was investigating the scene when I saw you coming down your rope..." She notices you're still just holding the candy in your hand. "Go on, suck on it. As it dissolves, its magic will heal you."

You pop the candy in your mouth. The flavor of lime is overwhelming. You pucker your lips and grimace a little, "This is... very sour..."

"Hm, yes, I think the loox make the green ones from moldsmal droppings, but I find they are the fastest healing flavor," she kneels down and unties the shoe of your non-wounded foot. You'd kept it on the ground and still hadn't gotten the energy to bend down and do it yourself. Her sudden act of service catches you off guard enough to forget she said something about droppings in the candy you're still sucking on. She pulls off your shoe and gently places it next to your bag. Next your sock... you giggle and nearly choke on your candy as her paws tickle the soles of your feet. "Your toes are so tiny."

She giggles. Her paw dwarfs your foot. It's not surprising, she's over a head taller than you and built like an ox... err... really big goat, with dexterous paws that have soft pads... and retractable claws. Strong arms. Soft fur. Beautiful curves. Funny. Kind. Really smart. Great laugh...

You realize you haven't been saying anything. You've just been staring at her, kneeling on the ground, your foot in her palm. Her eyes are also trailing over your body. She's lost in thought. Her hands start rubbing your foot. Her strong fingers absentmindedly massaging your muscles.

You feel like you're melting. The lime candy completely dissolves in your mouth and your body tingles as you feel it pass through your body and down to your ankle. Immediately the pain disappears in time for your toes to curl with the masterful way Toriel's hands were digging the soreness out of your other foot.

A moan escapes your lips as she rubs a tight spot on the side of your foot. Your eyes finally meet, and you both blush.

"Um, I mean, that feels really good," you try to stay cool, but your hands are white knuckled, gripping the chair in just how absolutely good it feels. Her hands don't stop. "And, uh, hey look, my ankle's all better... that... ah... oh wow... yeah... I mean... that candy is great..."

Your mind starts to sink into her hands. You can't stop the noises coming out of your mouth in appreciation. You close your eyes in your own embarrassment at your inability to censor yourself. You know moaning is not appropriate, but her hands aren't stopping either. What does that mean? Well, you know what that means... right? Or is she just being kind? She's on her knees. She's done so much for you. She's a caregiver on a level you've never met before. "You're..." you open your eyes and lock onto hers. "You're really great."

Why do you have to sound so very... dumb? You want to hide in a hole, but Toriel just laughs. "Am I? As I take advantage of an attractive, weary traveler who fell into my world?"

She did just say attractive, right? She ducked her head after she said it. You can see the blush through her white fur. You want to say something, but she's making it very hard for you to think properly.

She focuses her attention on your other foot. She gingerly presses around your ankle. There's no pain. None. You could get used to magic... "How does this feel?"

"Soft," her pads really were so squishy even though they were a bit rough from callouses. The sign of a woman who works. You like the texture against your skin.

"I meant how does your ankle feel?" Toriel chuckles.

"Oh did you? I'm sorry. A beautiful woman is rubbing my feet, and I can't think straight."

Did you really just say that out loud? Are you really doing this? Being taken home by a stranger and... you're two different species right? Shouldn't there be an instinctual block against your heart beating this fast for someone who is not human?

"You've been complimenting me since the moment you met me, why?"

"You've been kind to me since the moment you met me, why?"

She doesn't answer and neither do you. Her hands begin to gently massage your formerly wounded foot. It feels like she's spreading the magic from the candy into every muscle and bone. For a while, only the crackle of the fire and your own heavy breaths fill the silence of the room.

You're beginning to sweat. You start to feel how dirty you are from your night of camping and rock climbing. You have a smell... You're becoming very self-conscious. You know she has to smell you. Her nose is bigger than yours.

"I... uh... ah... whoa... yeaaaaaaah," you try to talk, but her fingers were warming up and wow... does that feel amazing.

"You are very vocal," Toriel giggles, her knuckles massage the bottom arch of your foot. You sink further into the chair. You hide your face in shame at how easily you're falling to pieces in her hand. "Oh no, do not hide from me. How else will I know I am doing a good job?"

There is something new in her voice. It's become just a tinge more assertive. You drop your hands, looking down at her. Even though she is the one on her knees, you feel completely at her mercy. She purrs, and her knuckles dig a little deeper into your foot, "Mm, there is no better compliment than a face like that. If you stay, you can have this all the time."

 _If you stay..._ that's it. The hiding piece, now revealed, to the puzzle that is your host. You eyes snap open at that statement. "No." You pull away your foot and sit up.

It's Toriel's turn to look surprised. Even with her grand size, she suddenly looks so small, vulnerable. You recognize that look. You know it better than most. Lonliness. Desperation.

The haunting city. The empty passages. The monsters she's mentioned... she didn't name any of them like a close friend....

She is alone.

Your observations are still swimming in your head. A thousand thoughts going in even more directions. You can't pretend to know what's going on in this world. There's shadows in the holes of this story, and it's going to take time before you see it all clearly. But in all your travels, your gut has never steered you wrong. So you know one thing: Toriel is a light in this darkness. She clings to a hope you can't pretend yet to understand. There is plenty you don't know, but you do know that there is something between you, a string connecting your spirits.

"No," you repeat, shaking your head, willing her to understand your meaning. She didn't know how genuine you were when you asked to stay. She doesn't know that what you're saying isn't lip service. She doesn't know yet how much you believe in destiny, signs and spiritual links. She doesn't know you, not yet, but if she gives you a chance, she'll find out. You grab her paws in your hands and squeeze them, "No. You... you don't have to do anything like this. I am already staying. If you'll have me. I... I meant it when I asked if I could stay here."

She didn't say anything. Tears were clinging to the edges of her eyes. You aren't so different, human and monster. Like recognizes like. You've found kin. You know she feels it too. But you don't blame her for not believing it immediately. "I... I really like hanging out with you, Toriel."

"I liked today," she says softly. Her eyes dropping in her shame for her actions.

No, that won't do. You squeeze her hands and then lift her chin when she doesn't look up. "Hey, I liked today, too. I can't wait for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Toriel smiles, a twinkle back in her eye. "But we haven't even had dinner yet."

Your stomach growls at the mention of food. You both laugh at the timing. You bump your forehead against hers. She wrinkles her nose, "And you need a bath."

You laugh even harder and nod your head in agreement. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Down the hall, last door on the right," Toriel pauses and then adds. "Your room will be right across from it. Last door on the left. But give me some time to clean it up."

"My room," you lean in more, noses touching.

"Yes, if... if that's what you want," she whispers, her breath on your lips.

"What do you want?" You can't help yourself. You may not have wanted her to offer herself out of loneliness, but that didn't mean that you didn't want her. She is entirely your type. You can't deny that.

She wrinkles her nose and smiles, pulling away from your face, "I want you to take a bath."

You pretend her words struck you in the chest. You tumble out of the chair and fall to the ground beside her. She giggles at your antics. You take on a theatrical tone as you lay on the ground before her, "You wound me, lady. But I appreciate your honesty. I will attire to yonder washroom to make myself presentable."

You both laugh, rolling on the ground. The fire snaps and dances in her eyes. Like old friends having a sleepover. Just friends? Sure, you could do that... right?

"Alright, I'm really going to get up now," you bend back to grab your bag and then sit up. Cupping her cheek in your palm, you kiss her forehead and head into the foyer, to go past the entrance and down the hallway... It takes a moment for you to realize what you just did. You have one step in the foyer and pause. "That was a reflex."

"I know," Toriel whispers, solemnly. You're afraid to turn around. "They never really leave us do they?"

You don't have to ask what she means. You wonder if her husband really liked foot rubs... you're sure he did.

You turn, leaning back on the door frame and look at her. She's lounging on the ground, her legs pushed out from the kneeling position she had been in only minutes before. Behind her, the fire blazes, framing her body in an otherworldly light. It darkens the features of her face, except her eyes; they are shining, crimson flames flickering with magic.

She's like a goddess, like Brigid herself, sitting before you.

"I never imagined I would be a widow at this point in my life. Sanaa's time was cut short, but she'll always be a part of me... I feel her in my soul, and I believe she brought me here," you pause, knowing you should stop right there. But you never were good at shutting your mouth, and you felt the truth so strongly. Your eyes lock with hers and the last sentence spills from your mouth. "She brought me to you."

Toriel didn't move. She didn't respond. You've shocked her. You always were the one to come on too strong, but you can't stop smiling. It is good to feel your heart beat again, even if she didn't feel the same. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell me if you still want me to stay."

"I want you to stay."

"For as long as you keep saying that, I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^ and so continues our loving journey of fluffiness... and eventual smuttiness... whew, slow burning is taxing on one's willpower. 
> 
> This fic is so different from anything else I've ever written. I'd love to know what you think. Also, I'm building a whole world in these Ruins from 8 bit clues of hope. I hope you like the world building aspect as well. ^_^ I'd love to swap head cannons on life in the Ruins and Home.
> 
> If you need smut after this fluff, I share plenty of that on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darkcrystaldemon). Or check out some of my other fics ^_^.


	3. Stay Here With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: the "Explicit" comes out in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_I want you to stay._ Her words makes your heart pound with the emotion she places behind them...

...It has been a long time since you have connected with anyone this way.

It is intense.

It's a bit dramatic...

                                        ... and it's so very real.

Your walk down the hallway feels like hours. Each step brings a thousand thoughts, a million memories, and a dozen emotions all trying to answer one question: Is this really happening, again?

Attraction. Laughter. Connection.

Denial.

You shut the bathroom door behind you. Your pack falls to the tile floor. A routine action for an extraordinary day. A day that isn't over. A day that introduced you to a new... friend?

The three phases of denial: Doubt. Rejection. Confusion.

You shake your head. Friend? You're too old to play games of pretend... Experience tells you the signals are there. Honesty with yourself admits you don't want to reject them. But confusion is hard to shake in a place with so many questions.

She's a monster, a different species, who lives underground with magic powers.

Fire magic.

You start to sweat again. You take off your clothes and stare at the lump of dirty fabric in your hands. Your skin raises in the cool air of the bathroom made for two. Double sinks. A tub large enough to fit Toriel and another...

Divorced. Alone. With wealth enough to have a house up here and another somewhere deeper in the mountain... Or maybe that is commonplace for monsters? You know so little about this culture. It would be rude to make assumptions, especially when you notice the rugs and towels are homespun like her dress... Who is she? 

Wealthy or not, monster or not, is this flirtation real? Do you want it to be? Or are you still just looking for distractions?

You turn on the hot water in the tub and notice there are jets along the sides. A jacuzzi? No way... You shake your head in disbelief as you sit on the edge of the tub and let the steam from the water fill your lungs.

Now that the water is running, you can hear Toriel move down the hallway. Your heart races again as you realize you didn't lock the bathroom door... but you hear her open the other door across the hall.

 _Your room_ , she'd called it.

You lean your head back against the tiled wall. A tiny voice in your head tells you that it's just the guest room. But another voice in your head reminds you that it's the only room with a view of that city. What host gives their guest the best room in the house?

You hover your foot over the rising water to test it. You think of Toriel's massage and close your eyes at the memory. What host tries to seduce their guest just to make sure they stay? Is loneliness the only answer or did she resort to that because she did feel something to? Or are you being naive in your assumption? You are a different species. Even if you connect intellectually, she can't be attracted to you physically.

No. This beat in your heart may make you feel very young, but you're old enough to have danced this song with many before her... Sanaa. You cant help but smile as you think of your partner. When she'd come into your life, she'd cleared the dance floor. No one else could compare...

When she left your life, every potential partner afterwards was a misstep. Love became a note perpetually off key. Your own loneliness carried the tune until you decided to turn it off. Your work became your life. Chasing ghosts and violence and danger until you dangled from a rope above a flower bed surrounded by ruins made by monsters...

"Sanaa," you whisper in the steam as you dove your foot into the water. It's very hot, but you like it that way. It feels... purifying. "Did you cut my rope?"

There is no answer, of course. But in that moment, before you hit the ground, your world turned upside down. The dance floor opened up with a whole new venue. New songs. New steps...

You hear something fall to the ground in the room Toriel is cleaning across the hall. She curses for a second. You can't make out the words, and worry for a moment until you hear her chuckling to herself, a muffled self-chastisement through the door that separates you as she sweeps up the mess.

You picture her smile but soon your mind draws in the rest of the frame as you see her smile near your foot; her hands eliciting moans from you as she eases your weary muscles.

She may have been going faster than usual in order to seduce you, but her eyes as you melted under her touch... Her own chest rising, breathless when you moaned. Her gaze moving to your lips. Her tongue moistening her own as she thought about...

You plunge yourself into the hot water as your thoughts begin to get out of control. You dunk your head under the facet and say her name under the water so that she can't hear you.

When you come up for air, you stare at the door and listen. She's still cleaning. Unaware of your lewd thoughts. And yet, as your nipples hardened in the steam above the water, you wondered if she is thinking about you, naked, in her bathroom.

You try to focus on getting clean. She has so many homemade oils and soups. No wonder her fur is so soft. The smell of jasmine and lavender fill the air. Even though the smell of those mushrooms and the cave tried to mask it, you realize this is her smell too. Well, of course it is.

But this realization does nothing for your state of mind as you rub a cloth of jasmine over your skin...

You can't keep up this train of thought that will inevitably lead to a crash. You need a release, and your eyes fall on the jets. Your lips curl into a wicked smile. It has been a long time since you used a jet to...

You turn off the facet before the water level gets too high and find the switch for the jets. As they bubble to life, you hesitate. The bathroom door is still unlocked. What if she checks on you?

Your eyes still on the door, you gravitate towards the jet closest to it. You feel the powerful blast of water against your thigh. It's too strong, but there's no dial to control the water's speed. You grip the edge of the tub and let the water press against your thigh.

It's like a manifestation of your own need. Your heart beat, your breathing, your thoughts race like that jet. You lower your body, letting the water stream up your thigh. The secondary waves, less harsh, but still strong, are reaching between you legs. You shiver as a particular stream races by the tip of your clit, awakening your need even more.

You bite your lip to keep from moaning, and lower yourself further. You begin to make a broad circle with the stream around your clit but still not directly hitting on it. Your arms do most of the work as your legs get weaker with the sensations vibrating through your nerves. The water consumes your mind, pulsing with your need, teasing you to push yourself further for release... You narrow the circle more. It's getting harder to control our breathing or hide the more obvious motion of your body moving up and down in the water...

Can she hear you? Does she know what you're doing in here?

The thought just excites you more. Your mind focuses on the pleasure, you need to feel the full blast, but you can't bring your sensitive clit to that point... you'd be blasted away. It would hurt without a visual...

What if she did walk through that door? You close your eyes and picture her tall and naked. Her breasts perked in excitement at seeing you clutching her tub, at the mercy of her jets.

"You're so close," her voice purrs as she walks into the tub and presses her body against your back. Her soft, furry skin... her mouth next to your ear, her tone becoming more commanding like it did for that brief moment in the living room. "Ride the jet."

You still hesitate, your legs shaking from the already strong vibrations on your clit, but your imagination is insistent. Her hands go to your waist... guiding you closer...

"Oh..."

She praises you with a nibble on your ear as she pushes you further towards the jet...

"Ah..."

Her breasts and stomach squish pleasantly against your muscles on your back. Her hard nipples rubbing against your skin. You want to turn around and... nah-uh-uh. She bites your neck as you try to move away from the jet.

It's too much. Your legs are like jelly. Your body is starting to shake uncontrollably. You're losing your ability to hold onto the edge until...

Your mouth forms a perfect, silent "O" as the water from the jet takes you inside it. Its blast surrounds every part of your clit, consuming it whole in a relentless vibration that pushes you over the edge. You cling to the tub, knuckles white, unable to move, caught in a plateau of pleasure until you can't take it anymore. You fall back, overwhelmed, and nearly drown as you gasp for air.

Your face is the only part of you above water now. Your ears echo with the bubbling roar of the jets beneath the water's surface. You can hear your own ragged breaths, your laugh as you think about how great and how dumb that was.

Finally free from your libido, sated, you finish your cleaning, pulling up the plug to the tub and starting the shower to clean your hair. Your legs wobble under you when you try to stand, but after a few minutes, they regain their strength.

As you turn off the shower, you realize you can't hear Toriel in the other room anymore, but the smell of cooking mushrooms wafts passed the door. When had she moved to the kitchen? You hope maybe that means she didn't hear any of your _shenanigans_ with her tub jet.

You rustle through your pack looking for clean clothes. You find your "after the hike" wear: a pair of leggings, a tank top, and a light, mesh tunic-style cover that hides the tightness of the clothes underneath. It is your most comfortable outfit and always feels good after discarding the heavy gear and days of hiking and climbing.

You look at yourself in the mirror for the first time since you entered the bathroom. You're smiling. Your mind feels clear. You have a million questions, but the excitement of a new adventure makes you feel more alive than you have since...

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, raising your hand in the air above you. You picture an angel reaching down and grasping it. Sanaa, your angel in life and death. She was always trying to save people. Always solving problems. Always leading the way; so much so, that when she was gone, you'd forgotten how to lead yourself.

Sanaa, you took me out of our old world and placed me somewhere new. A new life away from humans. A new culture to explore. But don't think I'll forget you... no matter how many sexy monsters you throw my way.

You opened the bathroom door and an amazing smell of herbs fills the room. A sexy monster who can cook. You smile to yourself as you lugged your pack across the hall, but the door to your room is locked.

Maybe she wants to show you the room herself? Or maybe she's not done cleaning it, because she heard you and decided she should be across the house? You blush hoping that's not true. You really do get carried away when you get horny. You hope you didn't make it awkward, but you're glad you got it out of your system. You can't just keep hitting on your host when there is still the possibility that she is just being kind and wants a friend.

You drop your pack by the door and head down the hallway. You resist the urge to try the other doors on either side. Besides the bathroom and your room, there are two to the right and two to the left. You're sure one of those rooms has to have a sewing machine. One of them is her room... Your stomach growls.

Right, you shake your thoughts away. There is plenty of time to get to know this place. No need to snoop. You're sure she'll give you the tour later...

As you get closer to the kitchen, you can hear Toriel humming to herself. It's a quick beat, light and energetic. Every now and then she let's out a small "la" that carries with the music inside her head.

You stop in the doorway, not wanting to disturb her rhythm. A happy cook singing as she works. You've never seen anything like this in real life. Sanaa and yourself were awful cooks, and your childhood was full of frozen meals and take-out boxes. In the big city, you'd never grown up in places with large kitchens. This kitchen is the size of a small studio apartment. You're surprised she doesn't have an island counter in the middle of the room like all those big kitchens you see on tv. But the kitchen is built modestly, with the same homespun carpets and hand towels you saw in the bathroom.

However, you don't have much time to register all these details, as one more observation starts to take over your thoughts: she isn't wearing the same outfit she wore when you left her to use that bathroom. She'd changed... into a much shorter purple dress. In fact, her apron is long enough that, when she turns around to face you, it almost looks like that is all she is wearing. Well, almost. Her dress does have cute ruffled sleeves that cover her shoulders.

You didn't think it was possible for someone her height to be cute as well as sexy, but she is pulling it off well. Too well.

You have to clear your throat as she greets you, and try not to focus on the cleavage that is now readily in view above the apron. You can feel your heart skip a beat and contemplate taking another shower. She is looking at your expectantly, so you find words, but not in the right order. "Help. Do you need? Uh, is there anything I can do to help?"

Toriel giggles, and you blush both for mixing up your words and for how happy that giggle makes you. Looking around the kitchen, you hope she doesn't pick anything complicated. You really don't know your way around anything larger than a campfire.

"Set the table?" Toriel suggests, gesturing to a cabinet that holds plates and cutlery.

"I can do that," you walk into the room and as you pass her, you feel her eyes on your back. Or are you imaging it? You need to stop imagining anything. Change the subject. "So what's for dinner, chef?"

"Pork with a mushroom glaze, and green beans straight from the vine with groundnuts."

"Pork? You have pigs down here?"

Toriel nods, going back to the stove top. "A wild boar or two have fallen through the holes from the surface. The migosps started breeding them, so every now and then pork comes on the market."

"So this is a rare treat that you're impressing me with?" You ask with a smile that you hope is charming and not creepy as you try not to admire the curves in her body that are already impressing you. You try to tell yourself to stop being such a perv, but that dress... and in that apron... she is like a demon temptress. She doesn't even know you well enough to know just how much her outfit... those big thighs, strong calves, powerful arms all curved in a soft shape that complimented her glorious breasts, regal neck, smirking lips... she'd caught your wondering eyes. Shit...

But she doesn't say anything. Instead she just smiles, answering your question as she starts to plate the pork. "You can say that. I don't get many guests I can show off for."

You get the feeling she doesn't just mean her cooking. "Well I'm glad I could drop in."

You hear her snicker at your pun as you bring the silverware and napkins to the table. When you walk back in she directs you to another cabinet. "Wine glasses are in there."

"You have a vineyard down here too?"

"The loox like experimenting with plants."

Loox... loox... she's said that before, and then it clicks. "The monsters that make the candy also make the wine?"

"Yes," Toriel nods, holding the wine bottle out to you as you grab the glasses. She's taken off her apron and you try not to stare at just how low the neckline of her dress dips.

"I think I need to meet these monsters. They sound like they know how to have a good time."

"Mmm, they do. Just never stare them in the eye. They're very sensitive when it comes to their appearance," Toriel advises, picking the dinner plates up and heading towards the table.

"Hence they make wine," you follow her and pour each of you a glass before you sit down.

You wait, wondering if monsters had any ritual before they ate. She doesn't say a prayer, but she does raise her glass. You follow suit.

"To laughter, friendship, and more to come."

"To new beginnings."

You drink. The wine seems electric as it goes down your throat. You feel every muscle in your body begin to relax, not dangerously so, just comfortably softening like right after a massage. "Whoa."

"They infuse the wine with magic like they do the candy; but instead of healing, it's defensive magic against stress and fear," she takes another sip. "If I drink more than a couple glasses, it just puts me to sleep."

You can understand why. You didn't even realize how much tension had been in your neck until it disappeared. You would sleep well tonight for sure.

The food is just as amazing as the wine. Toriel is a fantastic cook. You feel like you're in a restaurant. You compliment her on the meal more than once. She blushes every time.

"So you're a teacher?" You remember her mentioning that and look at her bookshelves from the table, now empty of food.

"Part-time," Toriel nods, draining the last of her wine. She pours herself another glass and offers you more, but you decline. You have a warm buzz from the glass you did have. You're sure you feel more than her. With her size, she probably needs the second in order to get to the same pleasant state. "I offer classes three times a week. Mostly froggits come. They love to read and enjoy learning history. They have trivia competitions in the city now. Sometimes you will see them standing around the signs in the caves, just to show off to each other or the unexpected traveler."

"I'm sorry we didn't see any today."

"Oh they were around, but they know I have the signs memorized so they didn't bother to appear. If you were walking by yourself, you would have met them... so what did you do on the surface?"

"I'm a photographer."

"Taking photographs is a profession on the surface?"

"It can be once your name gets out there. Sometimes it's just about being in the right place at the right time. Other times it's about making it the right time."

"What do you take photographs of?" Toriel leans over the table. Her interest peaked. Your interest wanders from the conversation to the black lace revealing itself as her movements catch her neckline on the table. You're reminded of the time you used to photograph models for one of the top clothing companies. Ah youth...

"A wide variety of things, but I'm best known for my work in war zones and refugee camps."

Toriel's face darkens a bit. Right. Not a great topic, but she isn't changing it. "Humans are still fighting wars. Against who?"

"Each other," you sigh, grabbing the wine bottle. One more cup might not hurt. "My hope is that by showing the reality of what war brings, people will come to their senses." You take a long sip. "And it's my way of honoring those who fight as well. War may not be the answer, but there are plenty facing it head on and trying to do the right thing during it. A conscience on the battlefield... a desire for justice..."

"Your wife was a soldier," Toriel whispers, leaning back a bit.

You almost lose hold of your glass in shock as she says the words. How did she jump to...? "Can monsters read minds too?"

"No," Toriel reaches over the table, steadying your other hand that you hadn't realized was shaking. "But we can read hearts."

"Sanaa, she..." you never realized how hard it is to talk about her with other people. Tears well in your eyes, and your throat constricts. You focus on Toriel's hand instead. Steady. Soft and calloused, a contradiction, like your heart beating between pain and hope. "She would have liked you."

That's all you can get out. Toriel moves you both to the fire. The cold of night is beginning to creep into the house from the cave, but around the fire Toriel holds you on the floor. She leans against her chair while you rest your back against her chest, your head pillows on her breasts. You talk about your nature pictures. You want to get your phone to show her, but the idea of getting up to get it from your pack is rejected in your brain.

She talks about the Underground monsters here in the Ruins. You ask about the others deeper in the mountain, but she hesitates to answer fully.

You both talk for hours, sharing stories of youth, old friendships, and philosophies on life in general.

The effects of the wine become hard to fight as you struggle to keep your eyes open while Toriel continues her thought, "Monsters live by prophecies and omens. But old texts can be so vague. And the idea that there is only one answer to solving a problem is absurd..."

"Mmmm," you try to respond, but your head falls to the side.

"Mmmm indeed," Toriel chuckles, picking you up with ease. You wrap your arms around her neck as her arms support your back and legs. You might have protested being carried when you are now perfectly fit, but your face is buried in the fur of her neck and...

Lavender. Jasmine. A dash of mint and herbs from dinner. The faint scent of wine from her breath, or maybe that is from your own.

You kiss her neck. So full of wonderful scents. You kiss her neck again.

Toriel's grip tightens around you. She continues walking, trying to ignore you, but your tongue licks her delicious fur, and she stops. Her body is shivering, trying to gain control under your tongue.

"What are you doing?" she finally speaks, but not before allowing you to continue for a bit longer... until your lips found her ear...

You blush, realizing what you've done as you try to formulate an answer, "Mm, uh, you smell really nice. I'm... I'm sorry."

"Are you always so impulsive after some wine?"

"Don't need the wine, just need permission," you won't remember saying later. Your eyes are fully closed, but your mouth, as it tends to do, keeps moving. "Sexy so sexy... like dress... smell nice... so smart... hot... funny... home."

You can't open your eyes any more, but you hear Toriel open your door and gently kick your pack into the room. She places you on the bed. Your body rejoices in the soft mattress and even softer sheets. Toriel removes your tunic, but leaves the rest of your clothes. You feel her lips on your forehead, "Goodnight, my fallen star."

You can feel her start to leave. You know it's foolish, but your body reacts on it's own. You reach out and grab her arm in the darkness. Eyes open just for a moment, you can barely make out her features. You can't read her face. You have no idea what she's thinking. But if she can read hearts, she'll know you're sincere, "Stay here with me."

You pass out before you hear her answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think her answer is? 
> 
> How many people want Toriel to be there when she wakes up? 
> 
> Thank you again for all your support! If you'd like updates on my life or enjoy explicit Undertail reblogs and thoughts, check out my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darkcrystaldemon).


	4. Soul Mates

" _Stay here with me._ "

  
Toriel's arm stiffens at the phrase, but you are blissfully unaware of her reaction. Eyes already closed, you've fallen asleep, hand limp but still gripping her wrist. You have no idea how powerful those words are when they are said within this room.

  
In shock, she sits down on the bed... _his_ bed... their bed... This is a mistake. There is a reason she had kept this room locked and empty, but as you stood before Home and said, 'Toriel, I'd like to stay here for a while.' You were so sincere, and did not know - could not know - that...

...

That...

...

No one stays.

  
It was in this room that she pleaded for her husband to stay, to choose her. And when he did not, it seemed like her life became an endless reel of encounters that always ended the same: with her alone.

  
Trying not to get trapped in her memories again, she looks down at your sleeping form. What is it about humans that melts her heart? Is it how small you are? How fragile?

And yet, you are not like most of your kind. You are quite strong, lean and muscular. It had been a long time since she had seen another creature flex like you did, pulling yourself up on your climbing rope. And then you smiled.

Why did you have to be so charming? Even now, asleep, your hand will not let her go. Your trust is childlike, but what makes it extraordinary is that you are not one. She had never met someone so experienced in life and yet still open to others. You let yourself feel, you speak your mind, you...

She smiles to herself as her thoughts wonder over the day and the way you moaned when she massaged your feet. Even if you have only known her for a few hours. You let yourself collapse under her hands and see a different side of you. A side you are more than willing to expose further after more than one glass of wine.

Toriel shakes her head, releasing herself from your sleepy grip and gently laying your hand down by your side. She is being irrational. Her heart has been pounding more times in this day than it has in years, but, unlike you, she can see why.

This connection between you both is a cruel circumstance. Humans souls are fragile. Your kind are supposed to guard them militantly within yourself, but you wear yours like a second skin, an aura displayed for all. You glimmer with color. The traits you have collected over the years shine against your Courageous core: Justice, Kindness, Integrity, Patience, Perseverance, and Determination. You are a rainbow of strength. You are beautiful.

You are not safe.

It is like you are walking around with an open treasure chest. They will kill you for it. _He_ will kill you. That is, he will if you can even make it that far to the exit.

Down here, monsters bodies are made with soul magic, but every monster learns at a young age how to keep their soul to themselves. Without guidance, your soul will touch every monster you meet. They will all have strong reactions in one direction or the other. You will not be safe here, and yet there is no way out except through _him_. He made sure of that.

She needs to protect you. She made that decision the moment you fell and accepted her help. But she knows there is another, more selfish reason she has to protect you. She is not a young kid anymore who can pretend that she can't sense the thread connecting you both.

She sighs, raising her hand to her chest and steadying her breaths until they are calm, taming her heart. On her exhale, she pulls energy from deep within herself and watches it form outside her chest, into her palm. Her soul glows in the darkness of the room. It is a ghostly white, but she can already see the thin technicolor threads forming around her soul and leading down to your sleeping form.

She knew this was happening. She felt the tug on her soul the minute you dropped from the ceiling. And even though she knew she should cut these threads, she let herself be taken in by you instead. She blushed under your warm smile and laughed with your horrendous puns. And somehow, even though you are a human and untrained in such things, you can feel the connection too.

And you are incredibly open to it.

Toriel blushes at your advances and also at her own flirtations. You make it so easy to forget responsibility.

  
But what will Asgore do if he knows a human is here who has collected all the traits in her travels?

She needs to dim your light before any more monsters see it.

  
Toriel raises a hand over your body and summons the same energy from your core. It is an easy task when you have already opened up so much of yourself to her. Your soul gathers in her palm, a burnt orange sun enfolded by a rainbow of stars, but also a golden halo.

  
Toriel knows, from your stories, that this halo is the remnant of your wife. You were truly soul mates. She left part of herself with you. Toriel will need her permission to complete this task, but the halo is already growing into a shield, surrounding your soul.

Your wife is not as trusting as you are. There is good reason for it. Toriel looks at her own soul in her other hand. There is a darkness that swirls inside and reaches for your spirit. It splashes against the edges of her soul, leaving trails of dark matter in its wake. It is Asgore. They are not soul mates, but a marriage between monsters creates a permanent bond that imitates what mating souls do.

His soul darkens with every innocent he destroys. And she can feel it every time. That is why, all those years ago, she pleaded with him to leave the path he had chosen.

  
"It's for the good of the kingdom!" He had yelled at her. His voice nearly shook the walls, but succeeded in shaking the flight mechanism in her brain. She had to fight instinct while trying to finally stand up to her husband. He was twice her size, though; and as his broad shoulders shook, she felt the tinge of worry that only ever gets triggered when he yells.

  
"You'll darken your soul!" She screamed past her fear. She had played the passive wife for far too long. She’d walked through the court as a ghost, trapped in her grief. During her mourning, she’d lost her husband to the whispers of a mad scientist and she’d lost the kingdom to a fearful amount of deadly laws. She’d brought Asgore up here to get away from the political influences, and bring him back to her side. But she was failing.

  
"It is my duty," Asgore looked at her in sorrow and resignation. "And it is yours too, my Queen. We've found the solution. We must do whatever is necessary to set our people free."

  
Toriel gaze fell to the enormous window inside the bedroom. It framed the bed, curving around the corner in a panoramic view of Home. She looked over its ancient brick walls, dim with moonlight in a graveyard glow. 

Asgore wrapped his giant arms around her shoulders. A gesture he had done a thousand times, but it had lost the power to comfort her. He whispered in her ear, "We have to save our kingdom."

"What about our children?"

  
"Child," Asgore corrected her coldly. "Our child is dead and the other... was a mistake."

  
Toriel closes her eyes, knowing the next part of this memory would be too painful, and yet, she's unable to stop it. The darkness in her feeds on this rift created by his words.

  
"Get out," she hissed, resolution tightening her jaw, clenching her fists. She stormed out of the room, down the hallway, to the stairwell that led below.

Asgore followed her. She didn't stop or look back. She ran down the stairs, through the corridor of empty walls, to the cavernous room below. She stood at the giant wooden doors, engraved with the royal crest, pillars framing its entrance. She pushed them open, shivering as the snow from the other side blew against her body and melted on her gown. "Get out!"

  
Asgore looked at her with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but she screamed the words again. Fire burned within her, and she let it consume her sorrow and evaporate her tears. "GET. OUT!"

  
She burned. A wall of fire blurring her vision, but she saw the mass of her husband walk slowly through the door. She glared at him in the mist of tears that steamed around her face.

  
"Tori-"

  
"You are not welcome here." Her voice was choked and raw, but she continued. "Your kingdom ends at this gate, Asgore Dreemur! For as long as I live, you will not enter here! And you will not harm a living soul in this domain.”

  
Asgore screamed her name as she let the flames rise and surround the wooden doors. Unaffected by her flame, they were closed and sealed with magic she had not known she possessed.

Toriel stares at these doors now. Unsurprised that her memories have dragged her down here from that room, she traces the runes she’d carved into the door. This has become a tradition every time she let the memory take her. The chill from the outside creeps through the petrified wood, but nothing else comes through. It’s written in her blood within the spell. Only her death will break the enchantment. Until then, her blood is the only key to open the doors.

And eventually you will ask her to. They always do. But this time, Toriel does not think her soul will be able to take it. She should cut your bond while it is still new. Your separation will hurt less this way.

A warning flare burns in her hand, and she realizes she is still holding your soul. The protective halo spins at a glaring pace until she sees a human face in the golden light. She is beautiful despite the scars, that carve into her skin like a meteor shower on a clear night sky.

She does not speak - most spirits can not wield that type of power. But she does not need words to express herself. Her eyebrows furrowed and daring Toriel to try and tear apart any part of her love’s soul.

”Why protect a connection that binds your wife to another woman? A monster! She will be better off if she has nothing to delay her here,” Toriel says the words, resigning herself to the story that always repeats itself. But the spirit is not convinced. She burns brighter, separating from your soul as her light grows into a neck, arms, a body, and leg... the other is cut off at the knee. 

She hovers about the ground in perfect balance. She reaches out for your soul and Toriel’s face. Her touch is electric. Toriel feels her fur stand on end with static as sparks flash across her vision. Her ears buzz with white noise until the spirit opens her mouth, and a voice rich as honey says, “ _As-salamu ‘alaykum._ ”

Peace settles itself over Toriel’s body. She hears faraway laughter from a time before a kingdom fell on her shoulders. She sees, just briefly, an old friend, a lover, her tail splashing in the water as a memory plays before her eyes. She tells you everything will work out and ‘ _You can’t make decisions for other people, Tor. You’re not Queen, yet.’_

Tears in her eyes, Toriel smiles at the memory and releases your soul to the spirit of a woman you did not describe adequately enough. She is more incredible than Toriel imagined. In her awe, she let her soul fall back in her chest and follows the spirit up the stairs. She leads Toriel like a lost pet, the thread of her soul bond to you is like a thin leash, but unbreakable under the supervision of your spiritual protector. 

Toriel stands in the doorway of the room as the spirit floats to your sleeping form. She cradles your head in one of her hands as the other gently places your soul back within you. She kisses you as she dissolves like the thread, disappearing in the ether as your souls are now safely back within your bodies. 

Toriel notices your light has dimmed a little, but it will take more than just the help of your wife to guard that soul of yours. You will need to learn to control it. She will have to teach you... if you stay.

 _You’ll stay._ The thought beats in her heart, repeating itself until she starts to believe it might be true. _You’ll stay_.

You stir in the bed. You wake with a jolt as if someone shook you - maybe someone did - and then break out in a goody smile as you see her. 

“Hey, pretty lady, wha’cha doin’ by the door?” your voice is slurred with sleep. Toriel wonders if it is even her you are seeing. She shifts her weight, unsure how to answer, but your face scrunches up as you peer harder in the faint light. “You’re sad.”

Toriel’s eyes widen. 

“You’ve been crying.”

In your sleepy state, your instincts are heightened to the invisible thread between you both. Toriel has read that partners can feel emotions of the other through the bond but... it is supposed to take time.

You stumble out of bed. You almost fall on your face as you underestimate how high the bed is from the ground. In a sleep walk, your eyes still half-lidded, you approach her and spread your arms into a hug. Your head falls in her cleavage, but only because that is your height. Without sexual intent, your warmth surrounds her and she pulls you closer.

It has been a long time since anyone has given her a hug. All the insecurities of the evening burst within her. You stay silent, allowing Toriel to cry. Her tears fall on top of your head. You let them fall until she starts to slump in her own exhaustion.

Still half asleep, unable to clear your head entirely of the magic wine, you lead her to the bed. She lets you wrap her in the covers and you hesitate on whether you should join her. But she has become fully invested in this moment and pulls you in. 

You have no idea why she isvcrying - not even a soul bond can tell you that, - but you keep any questions you must have to yourself. There will be time enough to find out if... 

“Will you stay?” She asks in a whisper, her fears welling up inside her. Your response is a snore. You have fallen back asleep. Toriel chuckles. She is not sure why she does. Maybe it is the release of tears, the budding bound between you, or her own relief that you cannot answer. It has only been a day, after all. 

She looks out the window to the city below. The buildings are aglow in candle lights and magical fires in windows and balconies. She smiles at the view and listens to you breathe. 

This is nice. This moment. Why sabotage a chance to have this with your fears of what could happen in the future?

She closes her eyes and resolves her feelings with a new focus on enjoying what is placed before her in the present. 

She hugs you closer and lets herself rest in the peace of a quiet night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Adding a new chapter after such a long wait is very intimidating. I’m not sure anything can quite live up to that amount of time, but I’ve done my best.
> 
> For all wondering, my pregnancy went well, the labor was quick and now I have a beautiful daughter! Motherhood is quite a ride, and I’m still working on finding a balance. Her light and happiness are inspirations, though. She’s cuddled up beside me as I type this. <3
> 
> If you want updates on my life, snippets of smut and fluff I write randomly, and a large amount of nsfw reblogs, please check out my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darkcrystaldemon). 
> 
> Thank you again. Please let me know what you thought below <3


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